When You Lie Down

I recently awoke and found that I was praying. It wasn't like I woke up and was reminded to pray about some pressing need. I woke up and it was already happening -- I was in the middle of talking with the Lord. It was absolutely glorious. I felt complete, as though I were doing exactly what I was created to do.

Last weekend I went to a baby shower where I was reminded of the powerful words in Deuteronomy:

Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.

I so desire this "when you lie down and when you get up" kind of life. I want to wake up in prayer every day. And I want to impress this upon my children. This, of course, means that I sure better be practicing it myself. Sometimes it helps me to be literal. So I've placed a small notebook on my nightstand -- open, with a pen already uncapped -- all ready for the "lying down" part of my day.

My desire during these 40 days of Lent is to not let my head hit the pillow until I've said thank you to the Giver of gifts. This "lying down" exercise means that I fall asleep with gratitude on my lips. Gratitude for the midnight rain on the roof, gratitude for the four children tucked in bed, gratitude for the man at my side . . . gratitude, gratitude, gratitude . . . until each line on that day's page is brimming with thanksgiving -- yes, even the hard thanksgiving that some of you precious mamas have shared with me this week . . . .

Each night, as I look back over my day and am reminded of His goodness toward me, I know that I will lie down and sleep in peace. And when I get up in the morning? There's my chronicle of blessings, waiting on the nightstand -- proof that He who blessed yesterday is just waiting to do the same today.